


Fading Silver

by restfulsky5



Series: Indigenous [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Culture, Angst, Brainwashing, Gen, Graphic descriptions of violence, Implied Forced Mind Meld, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Re'an alien culture, Regret, pre-McKirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restfulsky5/pseuds/restfulsky5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a crack in his Silver Lady, a break in her hull, and an unexpected agony ripping through his newly shaven head. Being a punching bag for angry men wasn't new to Jim, but these weren't just angry Men.</p><p> </p><p>This work is a missing scene to Indigenous that I'd previously left mostly to the reader's imagination. I've received several requests to write it, and recently had the inspiration to pull it together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fading Silver

**Author's Note:**

> I've received several requests for the scene with the Re'an beating which leads up to the mind meld. Well, here it is! At some point in the future, I'll also write the other scene that is missing, the one where Spock and McCoy escape from their cell and locate Jim. After this one, you'll need a rescue. :( This piece is pretty dark. There is no comfort here given the nature of the scene. Honestly, I've never written such a hurty scene. Please note that this story does have warnings - they are in the tags. About the pre-McKirk. There is something subtle in here that you may notice in regards to Jim's thoughts...and this version on AO3 is going to go with my McKirk bent to the sequels of Indigenous. :)
> 
> In writing this scene, I took some creative license with my own story. A few (minor) details are a little different from the reality in Indigenous. I will go back to edit Indigenous with this in mind, but only after Call of the Void is completed to adjust for any discrepancies. I'm honestly glad that I waited so long to write this piece because of the new context I was able to use. I think it will make it better for you as the reader. :)  
> Dear Rubyhair - thank you for beta-ing this for me! I really appreciate it!

Something was going on around him, trying to get his attention, but Jim had already burrowed himself into a safe place. A place of dreams. She was a beauty in his dreams, the Silver Lady. A gleaming ship of exploration, rescue, and courage, especially under fire. Jim liked to think that her scratches and imperfections made her that way. Jim knew at first sight that she was special, and while he watched the magnificent ship being built with the sun rising behind him, he made his decision to take Pike's dare. Jim now flew among the stars because of her, and he couldn't imagine ever forgetting the part she'd had. This silver ship was his life, but a year ago he learned a hard lesson, pulling his crew right along into danger with him.

Pike had been right. Ready for the chair? He'd been ready for shit. Arrogant as ever, he learned a lesson, standing face- to- face with his arrogance. He changed, because if he hadn't, he would always be misusing her. So, he faced it and new dreams emerged which were greater than those of his ship or of himself - and those dreams guided him in a different way. They fueled him with a purpose beyond his selfish desire for greatness, the greatness he knew the "other" Jim had. His selfish dream faded and a new dream grew - a vow to protect his crew, his family, at all costs. That vow became his reality, and then he was anchored to his life as captain. His sacrifices meant that his family was alive and well, growing stronger on their own but even greater together.

For most of his twenty-seven years, Jim had lived a hard life, and it had been easier to just drag the bad dreams along with him and run like hell, leaving the worst of them behind. It was how he survived an absent mother and an absent brother. It was how he survived Frank, and most importantly, it was how he forced one foot in front of the other after weeks of starvation and behaving like an animal to survive. He _ran._..until he met Bones. Because of Bones, the doctor who refused to leave even when things got near impossible and Jim gave him a deplorable amount of shit, he learned to wise up and accept the good things in front of him. Because of Bones, Jim had something worth living for. Because of Bones and then Spock and the rest of his crew, he now had something worth dying for. He was here, at the hands of the Re'an, to save the doctor - and Spock, Uhura and Sulu - but the world now tipping at a sharp angle as his state of consciousness faded in and out wasn't a dream. It was darkness and separation. It was a long, drawn out and distorted nightmare that had begun with entrapment by snakes. It continued here, in a room with mirrors and reflections of himself that confused and mocked him. He wasn't that hollow and emaciated boy who'd murdered for food for his family, yet when he peered into the mirror, a bald, bruised, and lost person had stared back at him.

The reflections flickered off and on in Jim's mind for hours. Between blackouts, an image of the _Enterprise_ falling rapidly to Earth flickered like a fading star through Jim's consciousness. It was like lightning, the rod striking and burning what it touched in a fast and furious disintegrating flame. He was crashing along with it, falling, weightless and free, but the harsh thud on the hard floor of his cell broke the illusion. Stars fell, shattering in the distance, and then his vision more than blurred. It almost vanished through the pain, as something seared his body much like he'd experienced before, years ago on a barren, bloodied planet. There was a crack in his Silver Lady, a break in her hull, and an unexpected agony ripping through his newly shaven head. Being a punching bag for angry men wasn't new to Jim, but these weren't just angry men. They were strong Re'an beings, both male and female alike, who were already degrading to a state of great violence at a rapid, unstoppable pace.

 _The Enterprise._ Jim jolted back to awareness, wrenched away from the mental solace that he used to stay sane. He sucked in a stuttered, excruciating breath with a gasp and choked on the blood coating his throat and mouth like oil on a dog. It didn't matter how much he coughed to spew out what he could, losing teeth in the process, the metallic and bitter taste wouldn't leave. His throat constricted but Jim still gagged. Something was wrong, something that was driving knives into his esophagus but none of the eight or more Re'an in the room cared. Jim had landed on his side, which was unfortunate, for now half of the Re'an were at his back, blocking his view of the oncoming blows. The second round of heavy beatings had just finished, the finale coming from another pair of blue feet Jim would know anywhere. He'd observed Prince Lequa from day one, mostly from his own fascination for how serene and composed the prince carried himself. Not once had he seen the Re'an prince act impatiently with his children or curt with his servants. Not once had he'd ever said an unkind word or lay a hand on anyone. Until now.

Jim's painful groan became a hardened chuckle as he decided Lequa was quickly making up for lost time.

Jim tried to take stock of his injuries, but he could only could understand a few. Blood streamed from a gash on his forehead, flowing straight into his eyes. His right leg throbbed from top to bottom but he couldn't even feel his left leg. His chest burned from within, as if a razor had been run back and forth like a saw across his insides, its ragged edges yanking at his internal organs. Jim didn't want to think about how furious Bones would to see these injuries, because he didn't know if the doctor had received the antidote for the poison or not, but he couldn't help himself. He thought about it. Was his best friend still alive? Was he already dead? Had they escaped and gotten away from here, as Jim had ordered them to do? Although his head hurt the worst, which frightened him, his heart followed as a close second.

Jim didn't understand it, but some of the passiveness he'd been previously experiencing had worn off throughout the beating. He felt himself wanting to fight again, to fight back and _win_. Blood collected in the corner of his eyes and coated his eyelids like a paste, but he blinked several times in an attempt to clear the red haze from his vision. If it was the last thing he'd do, he'd get a better view of the Re'an who had just kicked him forcibly in the side like a weightless doll, knocking the breath from him. He wanted to look him straight in the eye. He wanted _Lequa_ to look him in the eye and acknowledge for himself what he was doing to Jim and the rest of his own species. He wanted to hear from Lequa's own lips that their animalistic taste for memories and violence had brought his peaceful species to ruin.

Jim wasn't disappointed. Soon, Lequa's face loomed over him. Neither was he surprised. Lequa was far too arrogant to let the opportunity to look smugly at Jim and gloat in his victory pass him by.

"Captain," the Re'an prince said with a grotesque smile.

With his hands cuffed together behind his back and his ankles bound as well, Jim could only twist his head to sneer up at the Re'an. "Nice of you to -"

Lequa's foot smashed into his face like a hammer to a pumpkin. Jim reeled back, his head hitting the back of the hard floor for a second time. Blood spurted from his face. His ears began to ring. Tears seeped from his eyes. The blow stunned his breath from him and with the pain in his head now unbearable, Jim's chest didn't rise for a full five seconds. His entire face smarted as the another layer of pain spread deeply into his skin, from ear to ear. He gasped several breaths, choking, needing air and hardly capable of getting the amount he needed.

He tried to prepare himself mentally for another set of blows but they never came. He lay, limp and too exhausted to move or to understand why there was a lack of punches and hits to his body. Before the beatings, he'd sat for what had seemed like hours and maybe even days in that chair in his cell, head shaven and body cold, and it had left him too weak to protect himself from their violence. The Re'an had grown too quiet, like they had earlier before another round of beatings, but soon, his bruised eyes found a source of movement to his left. There was a quick, panicked scream followed by the sound of slicing skin and sickening gurgles. He watched it happen as if it was in slow motion. He watched it, frozen and horrified, but would never remember what he'd seen ever again.

With a leering grin, Lequa's cousin, Man'en turned on his heel and whipped his large scythe through the air and effortlessly sliced the throats of the three Re'an behind him with one single sweep. The bodies dropped to the floor, landing crookedly and still, their eyes locked on Jim and their exposed, bloody necks just inches from his face. The warm but foul smelling Re'an blood soon reached his senses, the smell worse than that of death. Vomit rose from Jim's nauseated stomach, burning his throat as it traveled up and out of his mouth. It spurted from his lips, the puddle of Jim's vomit soon touching the pooling blood from the dead Re'an, Man'en's own brothers.

"You fool," Lequa hissed, and Jim heard the eerie slice of the scythe again.

Seconds later, the head of Lequa's cousin rolled past him to land three meters away, its hair twisted in a ugly mess that sprayed blood. He felt light flecks on his face and a second urge to vomit rose in Jim's throat. Bile spilled from his mouth to mix with the growing pool of blood. If Lequa himself was that far degraded, Jim's time was far too short.

The blade clattered to the floor like an abandoned child's toy when Lequa threw it down in anger. The Re'an snarled and bent over Jim. "I admit, your ability to fight is quite inspiring, captain, especially at a time like this, but we must proceed." Lequa's breath was hot on his ear as the last of the bile fell from Jim's lips. "Time to put that all to rest and give us what we need."

It wasn't time, Jim's brain tried to argue with the Re'an. It was too late for them, and stealing Jim's memories would be pointless. It was simply too late. Jim couldn't help them.

Jim's cheek scraped against the cold floor as one of the other Re'an took him by his cuffed hands and moved him away from the slaughter. Twisted and strained, his shoulders were being wrenched from their sockets. He moved his beaten, bruised mouth, wanting to speak even though he knew it would be useless. Something shifted in his mind again. Maybe it was for the best. His throat was being torn apart. He shouldn't talk. But...why wouldn't he try to stop them? Jim's heart raced. This wasn't right. The Re'an were changing him already. He breathed faster. His heart pounded in his ears. Shit. _Fuck_. This couldn't be happening. He had to try. Lequa wouldn't listen, but he had to try. There weren't many Re'an left, and although they were dangerous and unpredictable, he didn't want the limited number remaining to fall to their extinction like animals.

Hands roughly heaved him up by his cuffed hands and the words were lost on his lips. Jim didn't have time to think as the same hands lifted his body into the air and slammed his body into the wall before throwing him onto the bench in the cell. Only, his body ricocheted off the bench and bounced helplessly to the floor, instead.

_The ship of silver. His ship...given to him by Pi-_

Jim blacked out from the third blow to his head. He didn't know how long he'd been out but he came to when a whimper racked his body. This time, nothing could pry his eyes open. The pain in his head had immobilized him.

"Stop," Jim rasped. His skull was splitting apart.

"Get up," Lequa whispered harshly.

"Go to hell." Jim coughed up blood.

"You will obey me, captain," Lequa snapped.

Jim felt a pinch in his neck as he was again dragged and thrown onto the bench. Dazed he couldn't quite exactly grasp what that pinch in his neck actually was.

"Yes," Lequa's silk voice washed over him.

"It's...too late. I can't help you...like this," Jim breathed, already feeling something unexplainable weave its way through his thoughts.

"We have a little bit of time."

"Don't do this...there has to be...different way." Jim grasped onto the reasoning he still had, trying to push away the warm feeling that now flowed within him - but that he wanted. _Could he have both? He wondered_. "Your...people can live. Peacefully."

"And we will live. We need you, captain," Lequa said. "Won't you help us?"

Something turned off in Jim's mind and he thought about what Lequa said, confused. If they needed him, wouldn't he want to help him the way they needed him to? He heard the Re'an pace and Jim waited. Lequa was in charge. It was best if Jim remained quiet and still. They needed him this way. Peaceful. Like them. Like they had been.

Lequa's fingers lifted his chin. Jim squinted up at him, flinching when the Re'an's peach eyes gleamed back like the glowing eyes of a predator in the night. "Our creatures told us you were valuable, and we will use you. Be thankful that you've been chosen to join us, captain."

"Thankful?" He repeated, eyes heavy as Lequa's words echoed like a slow, beating drum in his ears. Someone released his hands, but the cuffs remained hooked around his injured wrist and his hands fell limply beside him. _Thankful_. Be thankful he was chosen to help them. Thankful, like he was thankful that they'd release his hands.

"Yessss," Lequa said, drawing out the word like a snake's hiss. "Say it, captain."

 _Thankful_. "I'm...thank..." But...they were going to take his memories for themselves, weren't they? They'd leave him with nothing and he'd never get back to his ship. To his crew.

A crew without a captain? It didn't make sense to Jim. He couldn't let that happen.

"No," Jim forced through cracked, bleeding lips. "No," he said, louder.

In reply, Lequa pulled Jim's body back onto the floor with a powerful tug and pressed his foot into Jim's already grotesquely bent hand. A scream ripped through Jim's throat over the harsh sound crunching bone. Lequa laughed and struck Jim's hand again, adding more force as he twisted, his foot now pressing the sharp edges of the cuffs into Jim's mutilated skin. Jim gasped as the pain spread like a fast-acting poison up his arm, shoulder, and skull, every inch in an indescribable web of agony.

"Your hand is crushed, captain, but I can do even more damage which will erase your hope for ever using it again." Lequa hissed in his ear. "Now, shall we finish off the doctor? Or will you do what I ask?

Jim forced back another scream. His mind felt like it was being pulled into an endless vacuum, controlled only by the man standing beside him. His ship careened again, its silver lights flickering. Part of him reached for her, wanting a place to retreat and allow himself to fall along with her.

"Your doctor doesn't have much time left, James," Lequa continued, releasing his foot from Jim's hand. Jim cried out as the movement jarred the shattered bones. "I can't imagine why you would let him die."

Jim's frame shuddered with another sob. Let Bones die? That was worse than losing memories. Jim himself would rather die than face a life without Bones, and his thoughts bent like a fragile branch in the wind. His mouth thick, he agreed, "I'll do...what...you ask."

Lequa knelt beside him and began to rub his hand over Jim's bare head. "You've made a wise choice, James," he whispered. "My son will proceed."

"Son?" A cold feeling swept over Jim, and he didn't want to be cold. Lequa had only young sons, none of whom were over the age of ten. "Son?" he whispered again.

"Yes, you may remember him. He's quite fond of you," Lequa said. "Come, _Chanwan_."

Jim's head lulled to the other side as he tried to find the boy he remembered from the banquet. Chanwan. He was the chosen one to meld with Jim? The boy with the snake? That was impossible. It seemed...barbaric, to use a child to do one's dirty work.

"You'd use your own son like a memory-sucking vampire?" Jim asked, fueled by whatever anger they hadn't stripped away from him.

Lequa's hands cupped Jim's chin. Jim was too weak to fight and the prince turned his face towards him. "Look at me, James," He hissed. Jim's eyes widened as the feeling to obey prompted him to listen. Lequa relaxed his grip, smirking. "You may try your best to make this difficult for us, but you are only going to waste what precious time we have left. I'm sure you don't want to prolong the process."

"Father, he needs her," a young voice said.

Jim couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to see who the 'her' was, but when something slithered beside him, touching his skin, the Silver Lady cracked again. Jim swallowed, breathing a light shallow breath as his mind opened to her presence. "It...she..." He murmured.

"My son, who is one of the last of us to succumb to our tendencies of violence, will show you the last of our compassion. I, on the other hand, would rather keep her from you, for there is nothing more satisfying than seeing you suffer, Captain. But my son is right. The captain may need her," Lequa laughed delightedly. "The one who found you for us has quite the hold on you, but she will keep you calm. I'm sure you won't mind if she watches as Chanwan collects what we need?"

 _The Re'an creature._ Jim could smell the creature even before it touched him, and his body relaxed into the floor. His body, for all of its pain, felt detached from his mind as the Re'an creature slithered across his arm. He didn't mind, especially if she remained curled up beside...

_Don't pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds._

"Bones," Jim whimpered. His gaze flitted up to the ceiling, hardly aware of the bright lights beaming down that almost blinded him. Bones. What would Bones do? He hated snakes. He'd get as far away from the creature as possible. And Spock. What would Spock do? He wouldn't find it logical to want a snake beside him. Maybe Jim should...

"Do it!" Lequa shouted at his son. Jim cringed, the harshness of the Re'an's voice curling his spine. They were a peaceful species? Weren't they? And now...Jim was supposed to be. "The doctor needs the second dose of the antidote or he will die. It must be now, we must retrieve what we need, or we will die."

_I can fix that._

But Jim didn't think Bones could fix something like this. The cracking had already begun.

_I'm doing you a favor. I couldn't just leave you there looking all pathetic._

But Bones would try to help anyway. He'd try to fix it, and then his best friend would be crushed to learn that he wouldn't be able to fix Jim. Not this time.

A smaller figure appeared over Jim. It was Chanwan. Jim blinked in surprise when he saw a glimmer of regret in the boy's eyes. The boy moved towards Jim. Jim froze. The pain and weakness and now passivity continued to immobilize him, but his own regrets rushed to mind.

_It's good to see ya, Jim._

But he was breaking. All breaking...

_Because you are my friend..._

_Spock, first officer. Bones, CMO. Bones, CMO. Spock, first officer,_ he repeated to himself silently as a tear slipped down his cheek that had nothing to do with his physical pain.

"What was that, James?" Lequa mocked. "Say it for us."

"Spock, first officer. Bones, CMO. Bones, CMO. Spock, first officer," Jim whispered obediently.

"And you are?" Lequa's silken voice reached every part of Jim's mind.

A sob reached his ragged throat. Who was he? _Jim, Captain_. "Jim, Captain."

"No," Lequa whispered. "Not captain."

"Not...captain?" Jim croaked out.

"You are not, my poor boy. You no longer give orders. Say it," the Re'an urged. "To save your friends."

"Not captain." Jim flinched, as the words caused another crack to form, a wound that hurt worse than all of his other injuries combined. Lequa was right. He had to say it, for his friends.

"Say it, James."

"I am...not captain." Another tear slipped down.

"You poor boy. Again, James, for the sake of your crew," Lequa asked kindly. "Your family, I should say, since you are not captain. How could you have a crew?"

 _For the sake of his family. Because he had no crew? How could he_? "I'm not captain," he whispered louder. But this time, he liked how it made him feel. Confident, that he was saving his family, so he said it again. "I'm not captain," he almost shouted.

Lequa crooned his happiness for his obedience, making Jim feel warm again inside.

"Not captain. Not captain," Jim repeated, liking even more how it made him feel. Not being captain. It was good. It was for Bones. For Spock. He wasn't captain. He liked not being captain and although his throat burned from speaking, he repeated it one more time to make sure Lequa heard. "I'm not a captain."

"You are a good student, James, to give me no trouble," Lequa's sigh sounded happy.

Yes. That was right. He was being agreeable. Obedient, like he should be for them. He saw that it made Lequa less violent. He had to be this way. He wanted to be this way. He wasn't captain, and Bones would live. "No trouble. Not captain."

"No, you are not captain, James," Lequa tsked, "but...do you still give orders?"

He jerked back. The thought was almost repulsing, but the creature wrapped around his uninjured arm and his injured, hurting body began to sink back down to the floor. "No...no... I...I just agree...I'm not captain," he said, his voice cracking.

"Shhh, dear James," Lequa soothed him. "Don't be alarmed. I'm not suggesting that you give orders. You aren't captain, so how could you give orders? You receive them. You are to be passive, never fighting against us. Never challenging me. You must repeat this so you understand and see a better way."

"I'm not captain," Jim rasped again. Something in his chest squeezed in relief as Lequa allowed him to be released from that title. He almost smiled watching it begin to fade in the distance as something new and more promising took hold. He wanted it to come to him faster, but...he couldn't ask for it. Jim whimpered. Being Re'an meant not asking for something he wanted. He knew that, from watching them from before.

"Is there something wrong?" Lequa's voice hardened.

Jim clenched his eyes shut. He had to answer truthfully. "Yes," he whispered.

"Tell me, James," the prince crooned. "I will help you."

"More," he said in a small voice. "I want...more...of...this."

Lequa inhaled a sharp breath which morphed into laughter. "Indeed, James, and you will be at peace if you repeat my words. I don't give orders. I never fight against you. I never challenge you. Say it, James."

He opened his eyes and searched for Lequa, hoping that seeing the Re'an prince would help him feel this good, satisfied feeling again. Lequa nodded in encouragement. "I don't give orders. I never fight against you. I never challenge you. No orders," Jim breathed contentedly. _None_. The warmth spread. He was here to obey. "Peaceful... " he murmured, the word lightened his mind. "I obey you."

"Very nice, James. Yes, you are peaceful. And you will be more peaceful than ever very soon," Lequa's hand rested on Jim's bare head. He wanted to smile again. Bones did that..."It's time, Chanwan. The second dosage worked much faster than I expected. I believe his severe concussion worked to our advantage. After this final injection, our source will be ready."

"His injuries are too great, father," a younger voice murmured. "His head was hit many - "

"He is ready, Chanwan," Lequa moved away from Jim and urged his son in a hushed voice. "He will be a peaceful, obedient Re'an now, as I am sure he wants to be. Remember what I said...he keeps his knowledge of his ship but he must not remember it yet. It must be locked away, as does any memory of this sacrifice for his _family_."

"Yes, father," Chanwan said.

Jim grew more content listening to what Lequa was saying about him. He was being obedient, and now he was ready, but it didn't matter. He'd managed to make one last decision before he broke. It was done. He could not go back. Bones and Spock knew who he was, what he was, and that was a comforting thought for Jim but it wasn't the most important. If Jim was not a captain, just like Lequa said, and no longer had most of his memories, it meant that Bones would get the antidote. Bones would be alive. Bones would live. That would be enough for Leonard H. McCoy to keep on being the doctor, the father, and the friend. It had to be enough.

It was the single last thing that Jim could ever do for Bones in this lifetime.

"Bones," Jim whispered. A pair of warm hazel eyes that he may never see again flickered in his memory but his regrets were too much to consider and his injuries screaming at him again - and so he squeezed his blood crusted, aching eyes shut.

Two pairs of Re'an hands held his head steady in a vise and he felt another sting in his neck, a sting that lasted longer than the other times. A sting that did something very different than before. His eyes flew open when something that felt like a shard of ice shot through his veins. He opened his mouth in shock but he was frozen in indescribable pain, his cry formless and silent.

There was pain. _Pain_. Nothing but pure pain. His eyes leaked tears, but he didn't know. He didn't know anything but the pain pressing into every part of his body. The faces moved above him as time stood still for Jim, the faces smirking as all of the suffering from his injuries was felt exponentially worse. They moved above him and around him so swiftly he could only watch them as a blur, stuck as he was in his chilled, excrutiating world. They strapped his arms again and his legs, holding his head, allowing more time to pass in his misery. A moan finally erupted from Jim's throat, a desperate wail, but their gazes shifted away and he found no comfort.

"Breathe," another Re'an snarled in his ear. "You must take a deep breath, James. Deep. Let it work its way inside you, destroying what's left of Starfleet's famous captain." The second Re'an holding Jim's head still only laughed.

The words didn't make sense to Jim, but he couldn't think about them any longer. _Breathe_ , they'd said. _Breathe_ , and Jim knew that the breathing was going to hurt. A second pitiful, low sounding moan escaped before he inhaled, sucking in as much air as possible. His suffering deepened, and the obedient breath that he took made him weep. Tears coursed from the corners of his eyes, but he did what they'd asked. He inflicted this torture upon himself.

Jim's vision darkened around the edges. _From the pain,_ he thought, but he breathed deeply for them. _Always_. He obeyed, never challenging them, as he'd promised. He breathed deeply like this two more times, just to be sure. After more tears wet his cheeks, he exhaled as slowly as possible, trying to ward off the worst of the pain. Soon, the ice became like fire, a comfortably warm flame that Jim now preferred, and a haze fell over his mind that he accepted willingly. The haze expanded, settling in waves over his body. He began to breathe more. _More_ , he told himself. _Again_ , and soon the warmth in his veins lulled him to a peaceful, comfortable state. _Better_. He was better now, because he listened.

"Ah, look at him, so peaceful," Lequa whispered. "His mind is ours, Chanwan."

Although Jim had the oddest sensation that it was wrong of him to do so, he didn't try to move away or argue with Lequa. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. They were in charge. He was not and he didn't want to be. What had Lequa said? He wasn't captain. _Not a captain_. This would help the Re'an, but even if it didn't, Bones would live, and Jim wanted him to go on living with his whole heart.

Jim's final thoughts before the Re'an's fingers pressed his psi points confused him. Something had happened to him, but now he couldn't understand what, exactly. Other than that horrifying prick in his neck that had made his body hurt, it hadn't been altogether bad. He didn't know why he thought that it would be bad in the first place. He liked this feeling that being passive gave him, it made his pain go away, and it couldn't be bad, because...because he remembered... that being passive had done something for Bones. It had saved his best friend. He liked this good feeling so much he would wait and let others decide for him, but he really didn't even have a choice in the matter. Lequa was a good leader. Lequa helped Jim let go of something burdensome he'd had to help his friends. Jim would give the Re'an the memories they wanted because he had no desire to fight against them. He was theirs now. All theirs. When they were done with him, if Lequa told him to stay, he would stay. It was that simple. For Bones, Jim would do anything.

But something within him stirred again. The thought crept up to him from behind, stealing its way past the manipulations of the Re'an. What was going to happen in the next moment wasn't that simple. Even if he survived this meld and the violence by some miracle or act of fate, he was not coming back from this the same man. The science was laid out before him. He didn't think he was the same man even now, but the man he'd been meant something to his friends. Something... _someone_... who'd possibly had choices. Decisions. Jim's stomach rolled just thinking of challenging anyone. _Not captain_ , he repeated to himself to feel right again.

Fingers grazed his face, and Jim grew numb from his next thought or maybe from the drugs. He didn't know, and he simply didn't see the "why" as a concern. He only had an instant before the Re'an began the next step in an attempt to procure peace for themselves, but he realized that even though he didn't exactly remember why the other him meant something to Bones and the rest of his family, he knew in his heart that the other him _did_. That pointed towards one thing and one thing only - that the James T. Kirk as Bones knew and as Spock knew him to be was already gone. And that man was more than likely gone...forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh. Writing this was very hard because of how hurty it is. I know it was rough. I'm sorry to leave Jim there, but take comfort in the fact that you already know what happens after this! As I said before, I am aware of a few discrepancies from Indigenous, and I really stand by my decision to make these changes. I will not name them all but I will point out that in the other story, Jim doesn't know it's Lequa's son who will meld with him until the child has already started the process. Here, Jim DOES know, and I really like the change here. It added a different dynamic. Also, I never named the Re'an boy until now. The non-con drug use you DID see in Indigenous and here, you see it was a deeper issue than what may have been realized. It's not what ultimately made all of the changes in Jim to Re'an but it DID really help the process along once the meld took place. The snake that "helps" Jim isn't necessarily Sam. It's possible, but I honestly can't make up my mind if it is or isn't here! LOL! I will leave it open-ended for now. Just a reminder, the sequel to Indigenous is being posted, and I do recommend reading it. It continues "new" Jim's story and will bring things full circle for you. :) 
> 
> FYI, I'm writing a post-Into Darkness (McKirk) story that is inspired by a few things in this series so look for that - I plan to begin posting it this week. It's more on the h/c side as Jim and McCoy work through a few things just weeks after STID events. :) Joanna and Mrs. McCoy will definitely be in the picture, too. I'll probably post it under a pseud name... arrowinthesky. 
> 
> To all who are reading this series - thank you SO much for following! I hope you are enjoying it!


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